


Small Gifts

by foxysquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Universe, Cats, Everything Is Better With Kittens, Father-Son Relationship, Galra Empire, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Holidays, Loss, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: As Daibazaal celebrates the passing of the old Deca-phoeb and the beginning of the new one, Zarkon has a gift for his son. New Deca-phoeb is a Galra holiday that the emperor is proud to observe, yet the joy of marking the passing time is not without sadness for all the things that have been lost.[Note: Set in the alternate universe from the end of Season 8]





	Small Gifts

It had been a long time since Zarkon had held one of these animals. This one was small enough to fit in his hand. It was soft and felt like it weighed nothing at all as it clumsily tumbled over his palm. Zarkon watched it, holding his hand steady as it pounced on his fingers and then brought its teeth to bear on his thumb. Zarkon barely felt the bite against his thick skin. The creature's teeth were too small to do him the least damage. He couldn't look away from it, yet at the same time, he was well aware of the others in the basket just below his hand, clambering over each other and clamoring for attention with their little cries. Zarkon was far larger and stronger than they were, yet they had absolutely no fear of him.

"Alfor," he said slowly.

"Yes, Zarkon." Zarkon could detect the amusement edging his friend's voice, but he didn't feel like taking him to task now.

"They're very small," he said, suddenly and uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"So they are."

"I didn't realize there would be so many."

"One of the palace cats had kittens, so I thought you would appreciate a selection."

"I want all of them," said Zarkon, surprising himself with the vehemence of his response.

Alfor didn't sound surprised, but smiled. "Oh—well, that will be acceptable, too. I did bring them here at your request."

There were no cats on Daibazaal, so Zarkon had had no experience with the species until he had met Honerva. Now, as he watched the lively little animals crawling all over each other, it was impossible not to think of her. He could all but see her gazing up at him again, with Kova perched on her shoulder, giving him a similar look—both of them curious and bright-eyed. The pain that came along with the image was a familiar one. It was an entity that appeared to him in varying shapes. Sometimes it was weak and fleeting, and at other times, it attacked with the feroity of a Galra soldier, but always, it was the same pain in a different guise. This time, its claws were sharp. His eyes stung, and he closed them, but opened them again almost at once. A Galra must face all forms of fear and suffering with open eyes.

Honerva was gone, as Kova was gone. Zarkon faced the knowledge, as he always did, accepting their illness and their loss, because there was no power that could undo the past. The enemy was not death; it was the denial of death. It was the weakness that could come from grief if it were allowed to fester into bitterness. He had lost his love, and he must allow himself to feel and understand that.

He glanced up at Alfor to find his friend's smile hadn't faltered. He appreciated that. Zarkon rose to his feet, the single kitten clinging to his paw while the others squirmed in the basket below. "If you wouldn't mind, Alfor, I would like to do this alone."

"I would have it no other way," said Alfor. "I do know my way around your residence. I'll rejoin you later."

When he left, Zarkon was alone with the cats. The kitten in Zarkon's hand was pale gray, with a tiny tuft of pink fur between its ears and eyes as yellow as a Galra's. Zarkon had never thought of himself as a person who kept a cat. That was something Honerva did, although now he realized, that as they had shared everything, Kova had been his cat, too. Cupping the kitten in one hand, he presented it with one of the fingers of his free hand. The kitten placed a paw on top of his claw, defiantly. "You are brave, aren't you?" said Zarkon. "Like a Galra, you fear nothing." Meanwhile, the other kittens were starting to climb out of the basket. One of them then scampered across the floor and planted itself on Zarkon's foot.

Zarkon summoned one of his servants. The very loyal servitor kept a straight face, as if there was nothing in the world unusual about seeing her emperor surrounded by kittens. "Yes, Sire?" she asked, once she had straightened from her bow.

"Bring the prince to me."

While Lotor spent much of his time absorbed in his studies on Altea, he did spend a few phoebs out of the year with his father on Daibazaal. This was one of those times. Lotor had returned to celebrate the New Deca-phoeb, a date on Daibazaal that was marked with feasting, celebrations, and many ceremonial battles, as it was the clean stroke that would put an end to the old deca-phoeb and provide another chance for renewal and new beginnings. It was one of the most notable festival days of the Galran calendar. It was also a time for giving gifts, which was one of the reasons Zarkon currently had a kitten crawling up his wrist. The little creature was having a hard time getting a steady footing on his armor, but it had not yet given up.

"Father, you wanted to—" Lotor began speaking as soon as he reached the door, but he stopped short in the doorway. "—see me," he finished, uncertainly, taking in the presence of the kittens with a quick glance. He blinked and stayed where he was, standing still and solemn as he waited for his father to speak.

"Yes, Lotor," said Zarkon. "Come in."

Obediently, Lotor stepped forward, still remembering his manners in spite of the excitement that had widened his eyes. Zarkon smiled. This was another sight that reminded him of Honerva, for Lotor was very like her, in appearance as well as in personality—even if, in this moment, he stood before the emperor with Galra formality. Yet no matter how much like Honerva Lotor was, Zarkon could not feel pained by the thought of his son. How proud of him Honerva would have been, today and every day, although she had had so little time to spend with him.

Zarkon knew that his very intelligent son must have already realized what was happening, but he was politely waiting for his father to make an official announcement of his intentions, so Zarkon did. "You told me that you wanted a pet, Lotor." True, Lotor hadn't said that he wanted an entire _nest_ of pets, but Zarkon had overshot the mark—which in battle could pose serious difficulties, but where kittens were concerned, was not as problematic. The palace had enough room for a number of cats.

Lotor rushed forward, throwing his arms around his father once he reached his side. Zarkon reached down and offered him the kitten that was clinging to his wrist. Lotor took it from him, gingerly. The kitten mewed in confusion, but when Lotor let it rest against his chest, it quickly calmed and settled there. He had his mother's way with animals. Zarkon settled a hand on Lotor's head. 

Lotor smiled up at him, gently stroking the gray kitten's pink-tufted head. "Thank you so much, Father. I'm going to be friends with all of them, and I'll take excellent care of them. I promise."

Zarkon never doubted his son. "I know that you will." The pain unwittingly caused by these little animals had been dangerously sharp at first, but it was softer now, and much diminished. Zarkon had defeated it. He was a Galra. There was no enemy he could not defeat.


End file.
